Outside
The catsuit was less practical than the one the kitty was accustomed to. Latex and a neckline to there, it still allowed for plenty of movement, but it didn't offer protection in the places it should if someone was using it to scale things and fight. But it would have to do, because it was the best Selina had been able to find in the Las Vegas madness. Luke Henry's credit card had taken the burden without trouble, and his generousness had bought her heavy boots, a cowl, and a whip to go along with the shiny black. The cowl covered the top half of her face, which she didn't care for, but there weren't any goggles to be found, and the cowl was as much about remembering who she was, as it was about hiding her identity. At the end of the day, it got the job done, and that was all that mattered.
She was prowling the floor of the casino, which was crowded with people feeding slots and snapping pictures, her whip tucked around her narrow waist and a gun holstered at each outer thigh. The kitty cat couldn't tell if the tourists thought this was all a game, if they didn't realize the guns were loaded, and if they weren't aware that she could kill them with her gloved hands in just seconds, even without her claws. On that count, not having the extensions at the end of her fingers made her feel uneasy, and she hoped they wouldn't be stuck in this place forever. It was shiny and loud, and it should have been all the things the Cat wanted out of life, but it didn't live up to home. Dirty alleys and constant smog, that was home, and this felt like Metropolis, even with the Gotham-level disaster outside.
But she was supposed to be enjoying herself, the kitty cat, and she tried to find some thrill among the crowd of hapless gamblers. Taking their wallets would be like taking candy from an entire nursery of babies, and none of them had anything worth one trinket in the Wayne family jewelry box. She looked around the brightness, and she walked through it and outside, beyond the protection of the guards that had fallen prey so easily to Ivy's red hair and her pheromones. Outside, there was no false safety, no one to fight her battles for her, and she glanced behind herself at the tall building at her back. Scaling it, now that could be a challenge. It was taller than anything Gotham could boast, and without claws or boots with spikes in the sole, it would be dangerous enough to give her a thrill. She considered it, face upturned and the chaos of the strip at her back.